


My Name From Your Lips

by Apparentlynotreallyfinnish



Series: Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice, Kiss Me a Thousand Times [4]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: After College!Rhink, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Link's POV, M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:20:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/pseuds/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish
Summary: Rhett and Link are in their twenties, working as engineers, dreaming of careers in entertainment. A movie night running long turns into a sleepover.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice, Kiss Me a Thousand Times [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697449
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	My Name From Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths

“Liiink,” Rhett says smirking at me from the other side of the couch. The credits are still rolling, neither of us paying attention anymore. Rhett has just commented on the appearance of the lead actor. I huffed and said he looked like a troll. 

“You’re just jealous,” Rhett continues, looking at me like he knows. I try not to blush.

“The fuck I am. I just don’t think he’s attractive,” I mutter. He is right, though. Not that I’d ever admit that.

“He was like in the top ten of the-sexiest-men-on-earth list or whatever it is!” he exclaims, laughing now. I frown at him.

“So, what? That’s just a list made by studio heads and marketing departments. It’s supposed to sell movie tickets, not tell people who they should find attractive.” The explanation just rolls off my tongue. It sounds reasonable. I’m proud of myself. Good save, Link.

“Oh, don’t even try. I know you drool over that guy who got first this year,” Rhett says smirking.

“Oh, fuck you,” I say, kicking his foot. That’s the only part of him I can reach.

“You wish,” he says and kicks me back but not as hard, like he’s afraid of hurting me. I stick out my tongue and hope my blush doesn’t show in the low light of the room. Rhett moves to grab the remote and turns off the entertainment system.

“It’s getting late,” he says.

I look at the time. It’s 1:30 a.m. It’s Thursday night, or Friday morning, whatever. We both have work tomorrow. We really shouldn’t have watched the movie after our usual Thursday night song session. But when do I ever say no to him?

“Dang. I have an early morning. Can I stay in the guest bedroom again?”

“Be my guest,” he answers with a smile. He looks so pleased with himself.

“Wow. You’re so witty. Have you ever thought about a career in comedy?” I deadpan, cocking an eyebrow at him. Rhett throws his head back and lets out his signature booming laugh. It warms my insides and turns the corners of my lips up.

“Maybe once or twice. You know where to find everything?”

“Yep. Good night.”

“Night.”

I brush my teeth with a new brush I take from the cabinet and take a shirt from the pile of old t-shirt Rhett keeps in the drawer for me. The pile is always there and sometimes I notice he’s changed the shirts. I like to imagine that he likes to see me in certain things. I know it’s not true—why would he care what I wear—but the thought still makes me soft. I’m wrapped up in the smell of him and his home, tucked under fresh linens and I should feel safe and happy and sleepy, but sleep is nowhere to be found.

I toss and turn in the bed for a good hour, before getting up to get something to drink. I should’ve just gone home. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep here. So close to him.

I pat down into the kitchen and open the fridge. I know there is some bubbly water there and I feel like tap water just doesn't cut it right now. After some rummaging around I find what I’m looking for and close the door. The kitchen falls back into darkness and for a second, I’m practically blind. When my eyes start to adjust, I see a figure standing behind the fridge door. I yelp and the bottle in my hand drops on the floor and blows open. All the fizzy water sprays on me like a geyser.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rhett's voice pierces the darkness and I feel like an idiot that I certainly am. He sounds like he is actually sorry, but he’s still giggling. The light switch clicks and the kitchen is filled with warm light. Rhett turns to look at me. He immediately starts to laugh in earnest. I shiver as the cold water slowly drips off of me.

“Look at you! How the hell did you get so wet?!” He’s doubling over and holding on to his stomach as he laughs teary-eyed. I grimace at him and pick up the bottle that fucked me up. I take a swig, since there is still some water left and, shit, this is why I came in here anyway. Might as well quench the only thirst I can.

As I bring the bottle down to the kitchen island, Rhett steps up to me. I freeze. He’s so close. Our toes are almost touching. Why is he so close? I try to control my breathing, but I feel like panting. Almost involuntarily, my gaze lifts up to meet his eyes. They are too green in this light, like a forest so dense I could get lost in it. And I do. I just stare at him. His gaze flits around my face: eyes, chin, lips, hair. I feel a tugging. Like his body is calling for me. Like he wants me to make the first move. But I know it’s just my brain, projecting my feelings onto him.

Then his hand rises and I gasp. I can’t help it. The sound just escapes and I’m instantly embarrassed. His smile falters. Suddenly, his eyes are not green anymore. They’re dark—so dark that I’m afraid of what might happen. I’m shaking and I hope he thinks it’s because of the cold water. His hand finally comes up to my face. He gently brushes the dripping wet hair out of my eyes. His fingertips stay on my skin and slowly trail down my temple and my jawline down to the tip of my chin. They stay there, slightly lifting my chin up. Time stops. I feel feverish and heat flushes over me, dragging me to the deep end. Surely my skin is hot enough to boil the water straight off my skin and it almost feels like we’re enveloped in a cloud of water vapor. I’m blinded by it. I have to move. I can’t be here. I’m about to do something stupid.

“You look good like this,” Rhett whispers and I almost faint. It’s too much. I can’t deal. I step back, look away. I mumble, “I’m gonna go change. Can you…?”

“Yeah. I’ll mop up. Sorry again,” Rhett says. He sounds like he’s waking from a dream.

“It’s fine. Whatever,” I say and rush out of the kitchen. I too am wide awake.

I head towards the guest bedroom to get a dry shirt. I feel like I’ve been dunked into a pool. How much water can one bottle hold? I grab a shirt and slink into the bathroom. I hang my wet t-shirt to dry and slip out of my boxers. They’re drenched too and even after vigorous twisting I can’t bring myself to wear them again. I could ask for a pair from Rhett, but the thought of asking him for underwear right now is insurmountable. I'll just go commando, I guess. Rhett’s shirt is long enough to cover me anyway. I hang my boxers to dry too, so I can wear them in the morning. I towel dry my hair and step out. Rhett is leaning against the wall next to the guest bedroom door.

“Hey,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle nervously. He sounds weird. Small somehow.

“I’m… It’s okay, Rhett. Can we just go back to bed?” I say tugging at the t-shirt, feeling very acutely my nakedness under it.

“I feel really bad. I heard you get up and thought maybe you were having one of your anxiety attacks and…” Rhett explains, ignoring my plea. My annoyance melts a bit. Why does he have to be so sweet?

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you. I was just thirsty. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rhett asks looking at me intently. I blush again.

“Yes. Good night.” I use my determined voice and step into the doorway. Rhett’s hand grabs my arm. I look at the hand holding me and lift my eyes to his. He looks at me and swallows. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. But suddenly, Rhett lets me go and hurries away, leaving me reeling at the door.

After an embarrassingly long time, I step in and bury myself under the covers. I slam my face against the pillow and groan into it. I want to scream. I feel like I need to do something to release this tension inside me. But I can’t, we’re only a few rooms away, he would hear me.

Rhett’s words keep playing in my head over and over again. _You look good like this._ He could have been joking. He _must_ have been joking! But the way he said it… I’m making myself crazy and sleep seems more elusive than before. Finally, in my sleepless delirium, I get up and walk to his bedroom door. I need to talk to him. I need for him to tell me what he said was a joke or that I was insane and had imagined the whole thing. I need some kind of explanation to get my mind off of it.

I reach towards his door to knock on it, but my hand stops, knuckles centimeters away when I hear it. An almost inaudible moan. I strain my hearing, my hand trembling in the air. It’s silent again. I must have imagined it. Then another one. This time louder and drawn out. I know I should go. I know this with every fiber of my being, but my feet are glued to the floor. I stand behind Rhett’s door and listen to him pleasure himself. I’ve never felt dirtier. Or more turned on.

“Ohhh, God. Yes. Just like that. You feel so good. Hnnnnnggg.”

I can hear him and my cheeks flush. I need to move. I need to go. This is so wrong. Move your goddamn feet and go back to your bed! But then a word echoes in the room. It slips under the door and slams into me.

“ _Link._ ”

My knees go weak and heat coils in my stomach. It’s my name. He’s moaning out _my name_. And before I can think about it, I realize I’ve knocked on the door. A sharp silence falls to the room. A tentative voice says:

“Um… yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, s—sure.”

I open the door slowly. Rhett is laying down on his bed. The room is not completely dark and I can see that he looks disheveled: his hair is messy and he's sweaty and flushed. He’s topless; I can see his shoulders and his upper chest. Everything below that is hidden under his covers. His other knee is bent up, conveniently hiding his crotch.

I must be dreaming because I would never do this in real life, but here I am, walking to him and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Our eyes are locked on each other.

“Were you— How long…?” Rhett tries to ask. His Adam's apple bops.

“Are you asking me what I heard?” I help him, unable to stop a smirk forming on my face.

“Yeah,” he sighs and I’m pretty sure I can see a deep blush rising on his cheeks.

“Well. Let’s put it this way. I never would have imagined I could get you going like that,” I say and wiggle my eyebrows. Oh my God, what am I doing?! A part of me is panicking. But that part is clearly not at the wheel right now. Rhett groans and hides his face under his palms. His head hits the pillow and his leg drops on the mattress revealing an invitingly tented sheet. Rhett is talking. His hands are muffling the words, but I can make out most of it.

“Oh God… I’m so sorry. That was… inappropriate. Please, don’t—”

His acute embarrassment is making me strangely bold. I climb on the bed and straddle him. I press myself down slowly and lean forwards a bit. There is only a thin sheet between us and I’m shaking from the need to rip it away. Rhett whips his hands away from his face and stares at me with wide eyes.

“Wha—what are you doing?” he asks, voice trembling. I take his hand.

“I thought I’d show you what you do to me. Just to even things out,” I say with a low, velvety voice I didn’t even know I possessed. Rhett gasps as I move his hand under the hem of my—well, _his_ —shirt and between my legs. His gaze flits frantically between my face and the place his hand is disappearing. When I press his palm against my hardness, his eyes roll back in his head and his mouth opens to a silent moan. I let go of him. He stills there. I nudge my hips, willing him to move, but he doesn't. A strangled sound of need rises from my throat. Rhett’s eyes spring open. He looks at me, eyes hooded, breathing erratic.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice hoarse. I nod and roll my hips again. He doesn’t hesitate anymore. He shifts his position and his fingers wrap around my cock. My back arches and I throw my head back. I brace my palms on his knees for balance. A throaty moan breaks out of me as he starts to slowly stroke me. I can hear a low chuckle. I’m panting and I can hear his quickened breaths matching mine. Suddenly, his hand is gone and my head whips back up. My stomach drops. He must have realized what we’re doing. He wants to stop. But I’m wrong. I watch him pop open a tube of lube. His hand returns to me warm and silky wet. I let out a relieved sigh as he starts to pump me again.

“You’re so big,” he whispers, sounding awed. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Not as long as I have,” I say, voice strained. He must know. He must know that I’ve loved him since... Well, since forever. He must know this is all I fantasize nowadays. Rhett _must know_.

“Really?” he asks. He sounds surprised. I can’t believe he didn't know. I tell him that. I gasp the words out between tight, mind-bending strokes.

He pushes himself up with his free hand. Some awkward shuffling ensues when we reorient our bodies into a new position. Rhett's arm slips around my waist, bringing our bodies closer together and he breathes against my mouth. A small sound of longing slips from his lips. I don’t need more prompting. He’s holding my cock in his hand; surely I can kiss him now. Our lips meet. He is soft and scratchy all at the same time. It’s an intoxicating mix of sensations and I sink into him like a capsized ship sinks into the ocean. He breaks the kiss sooner than I’d like, but his lips stay there, against mine as he murmurs: “You taste like heaven. Wanna make you cum so bad.”

My hands are in his hair and I tug him back. We're kissing as his hand starts moving again between us. The pleasure is intense. I forget how to speak, how to think, even how to kiss eventually. My head falls onto his shoulder. He’s whispering dirty little things into my ear as his fist brings me closer and closer to unraveling. I’m dizzy and I grind desperately against him. He’s egging me on. Telling me how beautiful I look like this. Telling me how he’s fantasized about this. Telling me how good I sound. Pleading me to cum all over him. Finally, I oblige. As I reach the apex, I sink my teeth into the flesh of his shoulder making him hiss with pleasure. Warm spurts of cum smear his hand and his chest and my thighs.

He falls back on the bed, pulling me with him. My body presses against his hardness and he moans, low and needy. He is under me, moaning and I’m still firmly planted in the afterglow. God, I can’t believe this is happening. I feel his cock twitching between us. I’m hit with the most intense desire to make him delirious with pleasure, to make him writhe and plead, and to hear him moan my name again.

I grab his hand as I slip off of him and lay next to him. He looks at me, all confused and eyes hazy with lust. I bring his fingers up to my mouth and place his index and middle finger against my lips. His breathing quickens. The effect I have on him is obvious and it makes me want him that much more. I open my mouth, just a little, and sink his fingers in. I taste myself. I lick off my cum, humming contently. As I do this, I maintain eye contact with him.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls and looks like he’s about to drool all over himself. I swirl my tongue one last time and pull his fingers out with a wet pop. His whole body jerks. The sheet is straining against his erection. I wrap my hand around it and squeeze gently. He growls and his eyes flutter closed. He bucks into my fist. A low whine releases from him as I move my hand just a little. The sheet is silky smooth and slips around him easily. I lick my lips and let go of him.

“No,” he gasps. “Please.” His eyes fly open and he’s searching for me, ready to plead for my touch, but I’ve already moved. I’m between his legs and the sheet is off. He’s fucking gorgeous. All thick and red and throbbing with veins popping off of the sides. I want to lick all of them one at a time and I do, because why the hell not? The tip of my tongue traces each vein from root to tip leaving wet little streams around his shaft. He’s breathing hard, ragged and hoarse. He’s murmuring, but I can’t make sense of it. I don’t need to. He’s saying yes. He’s saying more. It radiates off of him. His hands are bunching up the sheets. He cries out when I finally take him into my mouth. It’s slippery and sloppy. I drool all over him and feel the wetness smearing my chin and my cheeks. I don’t care, I just want him to moan for me. And he does. He repeats my name like an incantation. God, it’s so good. It’s heaven. I don’t care about the pressure in my throat. I don’t care about the need to gag. I overcome it because him crying out my name, again and again, sounds like a goddamn symphony. I move on him, I move him in me, out of me. My tongue slips around his shaft and I hollow my cheeks to get small yelps and yips out of him. He’s writhing. He’s a mess. I’m so fucking in love with him, it hurts. He cums inside of me. I devour it all and I stay there, between his legs, with him in my mouth, feeling him shiver as he comes down from his high.

I’ve never felt more satiated in my life.


End file.
